

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


Chap.__^_?_. Copyright No. 


Shelf- 




UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 








































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Their Own Wedding. 


By the same Author 

LE PREMIER LIVRE 
DE FRAN£AIS 

ILLUSTRATED 

BOSTON and NEW YORK. 

D. C. Heath Sc Co., Publishers 






Yet some there be that by due steps aspire 
To lay their hands upon that golden key 
That opes the palace of eternity. 

To such my errand is . 


Milton 


Their Own Wedding 



LOUISE S. HOTCHKISS 

ll 




BOSTON, U.S.A. 

GEORGE H. ELLIS, PUBLISHER 
1900 

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59466 


jl_ibmry of Congrrts# 

| ’* wo Copies Received 

OCT 11 1900 

Copyright mtry 

OJp */)*■ (c> ^ 0 0 * 

N^V. 




SECOND copy. 

(M<ver*ri to 

OROKR DIVISION, 

O CT 15 1900 


Copyright, 1900 

BY 

Louise S. Hotchkiss 


All Rights Reserved 


THE WHISPERING VOICES OF THE TREES, 


AND THE 

LOVING, WATCHFUL SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT, 
THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED 


' 

























































CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Getting Acquainted 3 

II. The Golden Bridge 15 

III. Face to Face in the Flesh .... 23 

IV. Some Features of a Mood 28 

V. Drifting 42 

VI. The Inner Temple 53 

VII. By Moonlight 64 

VIII. Bridal Roses 71 

IX. The Bird’s Jubilee 77 

X. The Fate of Fraulein’s Portrait . . 84 

XI. Aufwiedersehen 95 

XII. The Willow that weeps 102 

XIII. Solitude, Sweet Solitude no 

XIV. “The Soul’s Rest” 112 


IX 


THEIR OWN WEDDING 












CHAPTER I. 


GETTING ACQUAINTED. 

It was in Karspule Strasse that Mil- 
dred Heath had found a pension . Peo- 
ple spoke of it as Frau Pastorin Jerome’s 
house; but the money of English and 
American students had built this mod- 
ern dwelling, and the property belonged 
to her daughter, Fraulein Marietta 
Jerome. Numerous Oxford, Harvard, 
and Yale graduates had been taught by 
Fraulein to take their first step in the 
German language, and had been faith- 
fully advanced till their final day in the 
Georg-Augustus-U niversity. 

There had accompanied Mildred to 
Gottingen a maiden aunt, who had been 
resurrected from the country and an 
idle forlorn life in an old homestead, 
fitted out by Mildred’s father with some 
modern clothes, and was now to serve 
as a witness to society that the young 
lady was duly chaperoned. With other 
3 


Their Own Wedding 


Americans they had arrived the even- 
ing before. The other Americans had 
settled in the homes of other Frau Pas- 
torins, and one of them, Arnor Thayer, 
thought himself a lucky fellow to be 
only five minutes’ walk around the cor- 
ner on Plesse Strasse. 

Mildred had just rubbed the sleep 
out of her eyes, and was looping the 
curtain a fold farther back to get a day- 
light-peep at the old German town, 
when that young man passed the house, 
on his way to the University. He 
lifted his hat as he sent a look up to 
the casement, — a look which well might 
have made a girl feel that she owned 
her share of this beautiful universe. 
His tender glance lingered a moment 
on the gold-brown hair which a hasty 
toilet had left insecure, and which the 
wind was tossing against the pane; 
then he strode manfully forward, with 
the air of one bent on some high pur- 
pose which heaven had quickened by 


4 


Their Own Wedding 


this moment’s opportunity. The young 
girl stepped hastily back from the win- 
dow, a warm glow creeping over her 
cheek, but almost immediately came 
forward again to watch the retreating 
form ; and as she did so her eyes filled 
with that mellow intensity which rises 
from a deep, ardent nature in the 
spring-time of life. 

It was a rich, warm autumn day 
which spread a shimmer of gold over 
the hills of this historic spot. Mildred 
pushed her casement still wider open, 
and greeted the old town, celebrated in 
America for its schools of language, 
literature, and science, about which 
Arnor and she had talked with the 
most profound traditional reverence, 
until both were ready to do homage to 
the very earth on which its foundations 
were built. Only the yard and a narrow 
street intervened between her window 
and the fortification wall which had 
served in the infancy of the town as its 
5 


Their Own Wedding 


defence, and now stood as a monument 
to a far-away period of antiquity. Its 
slopes were high and steep, and time 
had kindly covered them with green, 
ornamented its top with two parallel 
rows of aged linden-trees, and converted 
the whole into a grand elevated prome- 
nade. The wall was once a powerful 
arm which held the entire town in its 
embrace, but long years ago it had been 
broken through in places and crossed 
by busy streets; while in other places 
it was losing its solidity and bending 
over like a tired back, — too tired longer 
to protect humanity. In another direc- 
tion her eye rested a moment upon two 
mediaeval towers which rose from as 
many churches, — one forebodingly dark, 
bearing the air of guarding the secret of 
tragic events and bloody deeds centuries 
old, of which it was now the only living 
witness. 

At this moment, Katharina, a pretty 
Chocoladenmadchen , in a white kerchief 
6 


Their Own Wedding 


and long pink apron, tripped into the 
room, bearing chocolate and rolls. She 
brought a message from Mildred’s aunt, 
that she was too weary to rise ; and an- 
other from Fraulein Jerome, that she 
begged Miss Heath to amuse herself 
until she had finished her regular morn- 
ing lessons with students, when she 
would be at her service to complete 
plans for the study of German, — about 
which, be it known to the reader, nego- 
tiations had been opened in letters that 
had passed to and fro across the At- 
lantic. 

Mildred smiled at the picture of her 
chaperone sleeping until noon. “ Poor 
old aunty,” she murmured, ‘‘she won’t 
die without having seen Europe; so 
much for her coming. But she never 
has chaperoned anything but her cat; 
and I must get Katharina to look after 
her.” 

In the interval of stirring her choco- 
late and sipping it slowly, Mildred took 
7 


Their Own Wedding 


out her note-book and pencil and cast 
her eye about her sitting-room. She 
jotted down a line or two about the 
place having an American air, sug- 
gested by a carpet over the entire floor 
fastened down with tacks; a rocking- 
chair, a Magee stove, and blankets in- 
stead of a feather-bed to cover her at 
night. With half-a-dozen strokes she 
made a sketch of one corner of her bed- 
room. 

“ Horror ! how it frightened me in 
the night ! A sheet for a clothes-press ! 
I dreamed it was the ghost of an old 
warrior, full gallop around this ancient 
fortification.” 

With another flourish of her pencil, a 
few curves, and a bit of shading, the 
ghost stood in bold relief on the margin. 
Then there followed jottings more in 
detail, to the effect that she had spoken 
German with Katharina, and understood 
her as well as she would have the same 
sort of ungrammatical talk in English. 

8 


Their Own Wedding 


The girl was a glib talker, and Mildred 
learned later that German servant girls 
are apt to be loquacious who wait on for- 
eigners, and linger around their coffee- 
cups mornings. Katharina had told her 
that Karspule Strasse was a side street, 
mostly frequented by students who 
boarded with Frau Pastorins (minis- 
ters’ widows), of whom there was a great 
number in Gottingen. The street did 
not furnish much outlook, and about all 
the travel that went through it was two 
processions ; one went to the cemetery, 
and the other to the house of Professor 
Eicherhorn. The funeral procession 
occurred at any season of the year as 
stern fate decreed, and it made Ameri- 
can girls who boarded with Fraulein 
Jerome so homesick that they hid their 
faces in the bed-clothes while it was 
passing. 

Mildred ceased to stir her chocolate, 
and the curiosity she betrayed encour- 
aged the girl, who started in with a 

9 


Their Own Wedding 


vivid description of the procession, and 
was proceeding at high speed when her 
listener interrupted her. 

“ How would you like a picture to go 
with your story? Let’s imagine it is 
winter, and a dead man is on his journey 
to-day.” 

Without waiting for a reply, Mildred 
went to her trunk and took out a pad 
of sketching-paper and some crayons. 
“ Now proceed,” she said, arranging her 
material for drawing, “ but not too fast.” 

Looking over the artist’s shoulder the 
girl continued her narrative ; then hesi- 
tated, and finally stopped short in open- 
mouthed wonder at the freaks and flour- 
ishes of the black and white crayons. 
The following is a broken outline of 
these freaks: Four horses draped in 
robes of inky black, covering the entire 
body and trailing in snowdrifts; six- 
teen strong legs floundering; fleecy 
stuff flying to the horses’ shoulders; 
eight round holes edged with white, 


Their Own Wedding 

and great rolling, liquid eyes staring 
through the holes. 

Katharina shivered a little at this 
realism, but declared that it was more 
like it than the thing was like itself. 

“You are the best judge,” responded 
the young American, and worked on. 

A low wagon like a platform ; a cas- 
ket on it ; snow and wind playing with 
a black cloth, tossing up the corners 
and exposing to view what was its duty 
to cover and hide. 

There was a pause, and the crayon 
resred while Katharina brought up her 
part of the story. 

“No funeral ever takes place in Got- 
tingen without a Todtenfrau. She 
wears heavy boots, and her eyes are 
fixed immovably on the ground. With 
long military strides she marches on 
after the dead. The government em- 
ploys her thus to march on, and her 
absence at a funeral would be as un- 
usual as that of the priest or pastor.” 


Their Own Wedding 


The Todtenfrau took her place; in 
the solemn cortege drawn by the artist, 
and the paper was held up at arm’s 
length for Katharina’s final criticism. 

“ I never seen anything so like in my 
life,” said the girl. 

Mildred smiled and tossed the sketch 
one side. She was tired enough now 
to dream a little, — a habit she hac* of 
cutting realities short; but the girl 
begged to be allowed to tell her atout 
the “ Students’ Procession,” as it is 
termed, and Mildred indulged her, but 
prayed her to condense. What she 
gathered was in brief that this oher 
procession lasts a month, and is rrade 
up of students from the Georg-Augusus- 
University. They wear their >est 
clothes, if they have any, — white lids, 
swallow-tail coats, and stove-pipe lats. 
They are on their way to Profesor 
Eicherhorn’s with a roll of parchrent 
under the right arm, to know their ate 
as to a degree. Their look is dowrast 


Their Own Wedding 


and anxious, as many an American girl 
can testify who has wickedly peeped 
through the curtain of Fraulein Jerome’s 
window; but on returning, if success 
has crowned the examination, their 
heads are erect; they look up to the 
window, and the American girl claps 
her hands in congratulation. The gate 
flies open, and they rush for Fraulein 
Jerome’s study, ring her bell, and make 
a low obeisance. This they may well 
do, for every thesis has passed through 
her hands, and to her their triumph is 
largely due. She has done this for so 
many years that she has become a thor- 
ough master of the art ; and many an 
error in matter as well as in form of 
composition has been corrected before it 
reached Professor Eicherhorn ; and per- 
fect literary style is expected from stu- 
dents who have studied with Fraulein 
Jerome. 

There was a ripple of fun, and the 
artist’s eyes twinkled merrily as she 
13 


Their Own Wedding 


again bent over her pencil. Katharina 
had never seen Arnor Thayer; but the 
type of the anxious student was so well 
worked out, — the downcast look, and 
the parchment under the arm, not omit- 
ting the long dress-coat (slightly exag- 
gerated), — that the servant girl clapped 
her hands and relieved her feelings in 
an outburst of laughter. 

“You are the best judge, as I said of 
the Todtenfrau; now will you go and 
see to my aunt, and serve her faith- 
fully ? ” said Mildred, and she slipped a 
coin into the girl’s hand. The latter 
vanished with a light step. 


14 


CHAPTER II. 


THE GOLDEN BRIDGE. 

Mildred listened for the step of her 
teacher on the stairs, but no one came. 
“She must be late in getting through 
her lessons,” she thought, “ and mine is 
to be the last.” She fell to musing, 
and ended in some revolutionary think- 
ing that startled her. Arnor Thayer 
had suffered no such delay, but was 
already matriculated as a student in 
the Georg-Augustus, and half through 
his first lecture. Then suddenly it 
flashed upon her that their educational 
privileges in Europe were not likely 
to be as fairly shared as in her own 
country. Her opportunities were to 
be inferior to his, accidental and un- 
organized. Her father would be disap- 
pointed. 

“Alack! Alack!” she sighed, “‘he 
that saveth his life shall lose it ! ’ I do 
not like this kind of thinking; I will 

15 


Their Own Wedding 


give a few touches to the Todtenfrau, 
and make Katharina a present.” 

But the day was warm, and the chirp 
of the crickets was drowsy. She felt 
herself caught as if by an unseen hand, 
and a filmy veil of gold was very slowly 
drawn across her sight; and the hand 
pressed her brow until her head sank 
back into the pillow of her chair. It 
was so still outside she could hear a leaf 
now and then drop from the linden- 
trees and rustle into a niche in the wall. 
She heard her note-book creep down 
from her lap, dragging the pencil after 
it; and then followed the crayons and 
the picture of the Todtenfrau all falling 
in a heap together. Her hand lay quite 
still in her lap, powerless to arrest this 
disorder. 

The breeze lifted her hair from her 
brow, and her misty eyes saw the old 
fortification reel. Its walls swam away 
and melted into the great ocean she 
had crossed ; and out of the ocean there 
16 


Their Own Wedding 


rose a golden bridge which stretched 
leagues away, until the farther extremity 
rested on the stone steps of her city 
home. It was a strange perspective 
this backward stretch, so unlike the 
golden bridge down the future, which 
all her life she had seen building. 

It was a wonderful experience, this 
intense concentration, — so intense that 
she was powerless to close the lids 
of her eyes, or move her gaze from 
this enchanted spot. Two characters 
stepped softly out of the molten atmos- 
phere, about that door-way, and were 
framed in the open window before 
which she sat. Though so far away, 
both were so near that she stretched 
forth her hand in the vain endeavor to 
clasp the precious forms. One was 
that of her father. The other figure 
was a manly, heroic boy. He was com- 
ing round to her father’s door to sell 
the morning papers. His cap was torn, 
but the hair beneath was dark and 


1 7 


Their Own Wedding 


abundant; the brow broad and hand- 
some. It was the side-door where he 
rang, and the steps were high and 
partly hidden by a climbing vine. No 
honeysuckle was ever so sweet as that 
vine whose fragrance seemed to float in 
on the warm air. 

Then followed a confusion of shifting 
scenes, which ran through the wide 
range of all her emotions. There were 
frequent chats under the honeysuckle 
with that newsboy, talks, study, books ; 
a violent contention with the governess 
about him ; indignant feet flying to 
her father’s study (she laughed in her 
dream) to ask the question : “ What is a 
social set, papa? Isn’t a poor boy as 
good as a rich one? I like Arnor 
Thayer; he knows a great deal; he 
heard the cruel words of the governess ; 
he understands French ; he went away 
with a proud look ; he will never come 
back again ; oh ! oh ! ” 

The look of her parent and his an- 
18 


Their Own Wedding 


swer were written all across the old 
fortification. A white lily and a blue 
were in a vase on his table. 

“ See these flowers,” he said. “ One 
has color, the other has not ; but they 
grow side by side in Nature’s garden. 
If you have friends and wealth, Arnor 
is a boy of remarkable character. He 
did not get angry as my little daughter 
did, but went away with quiet, manly 
dignity. You have done right to lend 
him your books, and to teach him your 
French. You can say to your gov- 
erness that we are all one in the sight 
of God, and that I give you permission 
to talk with your friend on the door- 
step.” 

Then there followed the blending of 
a thousand incidents in Mildred’s men- 
tal picture gallery which, as they passed, 
appealed to every period of her mem- 
ory, to all her mind’s and heart’s expe- 
rience through which she had lived; 
and for the first time in her brief career 
*9 


Their Own Wedding 


she saw the fragments of her existence 
being collected into a page of history. 
The pages fluttered to and fro, giving 
her, it is true, only a glimpse here and 
there; but these glimpses hung like 
lamps on the walls of her memory. 

By the power of his own will and the 
force of his own merit, Arnor Thayer 
had climbed the ladder of learning to 
an honorable degree in America’s great- 
est university. Meantime she had fitted 
with private tutors to enter a college 
for women almost the equal of his own. 
They passed through this period of 
their youth with no mutual promise 
that they were ever to meet again. 
Though this was not her father’s com- 
mand, it was his loving request, and he 
was implicitly obeyed. Only at rare 
intervals did a note pass between them 
and then by the way of Mr. Heath’s 
hand. The note was formal, but he 
must have divined that the lamp of 
love, lighted on the door-step beneath 


20 


Their Own Wedding 


the fragrance of the honeysuckle, was 
being faithfully trimmed, and the spark 
was growing to a steady flame. 

To-day this lamp swung high above 
the fortification wall, a golden censer, — 
swinging, ever swinging, intoxicating 
Mildred’s senses with its sweet incense. 
She lifted her arms, and struggled to 
embrace it and draw it down to her. 

There stood out plainly on the page 
of her memory the commencement day, 
when Arnor’s essay on the “ Ethics of 
Jurisprudence” was reported in the 
papers as being so eloquent that wise 
old college veterans applauded. Her 
father was present and witnessed Ar- 
nor’s triumph; but he remained silent 
as to any renewal of their previous per- 
sonal intercourse, and more years rolled 
by, their souls communicating only by 
secret soul-methods ; and love cut deep 
channels in their lives, and the sweet 
waters of bliss filled these channels to 
the brim. 


21 


Their Own Wedding 


What were these soul-methods ? She 
had never sought to know. For the 
mind to question what the soul was 
certain of, was to her unreasonable and 
unrighteous. But in this Old World 
of science and philosophy there might 
be other opinions. She listened; but 
the chirp of the crickets and the falling 
leaves were the only sounds that broke 
the noon-day stillness. 

And now the fluttering pages of her 
life’s history stood still ; and one chap- 
ter plainly visible was headed in letters 
that sparkled like diamonds, while its 
background was a placid sea of summer 
blue. 


22 


CHAPTER III. 

FACE TO FACE IN THE FLESH. 

It was Mildred’s graduating day, and 
her father had invited Arnor Thayer to 
accompany him to the college, and to 
be his guest that evening at dinner. 

Beneath the honeysuckle vine on the 
door-step, where they sat together many 
weeks after, Arnor confessed to her 
what were his emotions at that first 
meeting. How, as a spectator in the 
audience, he watched for her white 
gown to come upon the stage, and 
hardly dared to lift his eyes to her face ; 
how he wondered if the face in the flesh 
would resemble the face of the soul that 
he had met in his dreams ; how tall she 
had grown, and how the gold in her 
hair had turned to brown, yet leaving 
a bright mingling of the old tints ; how 
his heart had thrilled at beholding her 
a beautiful woman. But he affirmed 
that he had closed his eyes when he 


23 


Their Own Wedding 


caught the first sound of her voice, so 
that he might only listen to the thought 
of her paper, — “ The Divine in Art, and 
the Ideal of Creative Genius.” Her 
voice had affected him like music heard 
among the trees ; it had borne him into 
the world where they had formerly com- 
municated, and he saw no longer the 
body, but only the maiden soul he had 
worshipped. And then he had fallen 
into despondency, and his eyes filled 
with tears. Poor and of unknown 
birth, what right had he, he asked him- 
self, to this glorious vision ? He 
felt his fingers close on his palms ; he 
raised his heart to God, and vowed that 
if this gift might be his, he would only 
ask for union with her soul. 

Mildred had paid little heed to the 
applause which had followed her paper, 
but left her place quickly as the exer- 
cises closed, and was lost in the mov- 
ing audience. Her father was ap- 
proaching her, and at his side was a 


24 


Their Own Wedding 


young man taller than he. The fine 
figure did not startle her, for she had 
imagined the handsome boy grown to 
a handsome man. A noble bearing ) 
and an appearance such as became an 
inborn gentleman, she had anticipated. 
The brow had a broader sweep, and the 
mouth a firmer purpose ; but both had 
been promised in the boy who sold 
papers. When she came beneath his 
eyes — it was then that she felt her own 
eyes droop. Tender as of old, there 
was a new vibration in them, like a ray 
of pure light falling to earth from some 
celestial planet. It had reached her 
poor, helpless heart, — a timid lake hid- 
den in the shadows of night. And 
when he spoke her name, the mascu- 
line intonation, sweet and strong, was 
the mysterious voice that she had some- 
times heard among the whispering 
leaves of the trees, when she had been 
sitting alone beneath their branches. 

Arnor was to be their guest that 

25 


Their Own Wedding 


evening; would the shades of evening 
ever come ? She listened for his ap- 
proaching footstep till she thought her 
heart would cease to beat. When the 
bell rang, she flew down the stairway 
before a servant could open the door to 
her lover. 

The hall of dark, rich carvings, lofty 
arch, and broad winding stairs adorned 
with antique and classic pictures and 
statuary, an ivory Christ in Italian art 
at prayer in a niche, — all presented an 
environment to which the young man 
was unaccustomed ; yet no favored 
youth to the manner born could have 
entered with a nobler bearing than did 
Arnor Thayer. 

Mildred’s father had consented to an 
engagement between the lovers, and it 
was made in this first interview. Arnor 
clasped her in his arms and cried, “ My 
darling, you were mine before the 
worlds began. It is the law of heaven 
that we meet. Neither mountains, nor 

26 


Their Own Wedding 


seas, nor the wide-spreading conti- 
nents — no space, no eternity of years 
could keep our souls apart.” She felt 
his tender kiss on her lips. 

And now, in this far-away space and 
time from all that sweet experience, as 
the memory of it came rolling over her 
like the surge of the sea, she saw the 
window of her little room widen, and 
she floated away over the old fortifica- 
tion wall into the upper air. Her feet 
were dancing on the folds of diaphanous 
clouds ; her arms were outstretched, 
and she was weaving garlands of many- 
hued flowers and binding them on the 
brow of this god-like youth. Together 
they swept from star to star through 
the deep beautiful sky of memory and 
hope. 


27 


CHAPTER IV. 


SOME FEATURES OF A MOOD. 

A knock at the door, and as it almost 
simultaneously opened, a voice said, 
“ Guten Morgen.” 

Mildred’s soul made a rush to enter 
its earthly habitation. She pulled her- 
self together, and cast about to see 
where her personality really was. She 
felt assured when she saw that the old 
fortification stood still, and that the 
linden-trees were no longer afloat. 

Fraulein Jerome stood in the door- 
way, and at the occupant’s bidding she 
moved towards a chair, which the young 
lady hastened to relieve of her hat, and 
made the Fraulein welcome. 

Mildred now regarded her closely, 
and saw that she was more of a cripple 
than she had observed her to be the 
evening before. There was a slight 
hump on one shoulder and a hitch in 
one of her feet. 


28 


Their Own Wedding 


Fraulein Jerome detected some 
mental disturbance in her boarder, and 
.attributed it to loneliness, so common to 
new arrivals. “ A bit homesick ? ” she 
inquired, with that clairvoyant vision 
with which German women are apt to 
be gifted. 

“ No,” responded Mildred, “ oh, no 
indeed ! ” And she was on the point of 
saying, “ I have just returned from 
home.” 

“ I met Herr Thayer as I left my 
study; he was coming in to engage 
private lessons,” continued Fraulein, 
“ He lost a good deal of his lecture this 
morning. He appeared troubled that 
you have received no more attention, 
and would not permit me to delay ; and 
I beg your pardon, Miss Heath, that I 
am so late.” 

There was a moment’s pause; and 
then Mildred asked, with a tone that 
might imply a shade of disappointment 
as well as a spirit seeking to be en- 
2 9 


Their Own Wedding 


lightened, “ Is there no department in 
this University open to women, — an 
annex, perhaps, where I could attend 
lectures ? ” 

Fraulein sent a scrutinizing glance 
into the speaker’s face, which for a 
second held to its purpose; then she 
rose and silently crossed to a seat 
nearer the window. Her step was 
slow, and Mildred was yet more im- 
pressed with this quaint, limping little 
personality in black. The frail body 
supported a remarkable head, — large, 
intellectual, and spiritual in appearance. 
The girl noted the softly-rounded brow, 
and the glossy black hair which was 
combed down about the points of the 
ears in smooth curves. Large, lumin- 
ous, near-sighted eyes followed along 
the floor to guard her crippled feet; 
and as she sat down, she raised her 
hands towards her face as if to study 
them, at the same time supporting her 
elbows on the arms of her chair. 


Their Own Wedding 

“ This attitude of Fraulein Jerome,” 
wrote Mildred in her note-book later 
on, “ is so characteristic of this learned 
woman that it will bear elaborating. 
Teaching, talking, or sitting in silence, 
she invariably studies the mystery of 
her fingers. Never is the lesson so 
difficult or the conversation so exciting 
that she loses sight of her ten frail, ner- 
vous digits. It is the report whispered 
among students that she is Italian by 
birth, and linked to some ancestral 
mystery; and that she resorts to this 
artifice so that her eyes may never 
betray the secret.” 

“ No, Miss Heath,” replied Fraulein, 
her eyes still focussed on her hands, 
“ there is no department in the Georg- 
Augustus or any other German college 
which will so much as allow you to take 
a peep within its doors to gather a frag- 
ment of wisdom to enrich your woman’s 
head.” 

Mildred cast a glance out of the win- 
3 1 


Their Own Wedding 


dow towards the cardinal point that in- 
dicated America, and the revolutionary 
thoughts that started with the golden 
bridge returned; again she was con- 
trasting her opportunities with Arnor’s. 
A rising flush might have betrayed her 
thought, for Fraulein spoke up with 
feeling : — 

“You do not want me for your 
teacher, and I do not care to teach 
women. They are so dissatisfied in 
these days that they waste their powers 
trying to break the fetters that never 
will be broken.” 

“ Oh, I beg your pardon,” broke in 
Mildred, confused to the point that her 
eyes moistened. “ I am perfectly satis- 
fied with such opportunities as offer. 
In fact, what I consider my best oppor- 
tunities are surprises to me. The 
world is full of them. I would like to 
drift on” — she was going to say into 
art; “but my father holds very ad- 
vanced ideas about woman’s destiny. 

3 2 


Their Own Wedding 


He believes woman to be capable of 
superior development, — superior to 
man’s from a spiritual standpoint. I 
think sometimes that I am held as 
a sort of experiment to prove this 
‘woman question.’ Indeed my father 
might be called the ‘ new man ’ ; and 
Mr. Thayer, who is deeply in sympathy 
with my father’s ideas, he too is the 
‘ new man.’ 

“ As my father wrote you, Arnor and 
I are loyally engaged, and he might 
have told you that it is a soul union. 
We became acquainted by methods 
known only to the soul. Through a 
long period of years, in other worlds we 
have walked together in the spirit. I 
know it is the one aspiration of my 
beloved Arnor to lead me up to God’s 
throne, when life is over, a woman 
whose destiny on earth has been ful- 
filled. There is no sacrifice which he 
would not make for this ideal other 
half, that is the mate of his higher self. 


33 


Their Own Wedding 


Separate or together, our spirits are 
ever united. I have in him a charge to 
keep, to help his soul attain its perfect 
development, to be led by me back to 
the great giver of gifts. Now, to me 
the attainment of all this blessedness 
seems possible. Life is a constant 
widening of the horizon ; the rays of 
being starting at the heart, impelled by 
love, widening and ever widening, until 
the great circle includes all eternity. 
And, if you like, you may call this 
widening of the horizon education.” 

Mildred had spoken more than was 
her custom, and was half frightened at 
so many words from her own lips, which 
were for the most part closed, while she 
dwelt in the sweet seclusion of silence, 
with her pen or brush leisurely at 
work. 

Fraulein Jerome’s attention had been 
drawn to the speaker’s face. “ Hazy- 
blue eyes,” she mentally observed ; 
“ far-away blues that come from the sky. 

34 


Their Own Wedding 


His are darker ; but they both look as 
if they dwelt in other spheres.” 

It was only a brief moment that her 
eyes had wandered from their place; 
she took up the thread of conversation 
where Mildred had dropped it. 

“ That is the voice of sentiment, mere 
sentiment,” she said, frowning almost 
fiercely at her fingers and wringing 
these fragile members. “Your intel- 
lect, if it were heard from, would com- 
plain of the loneliness, the exclusive- 
ness, and the inferiority of your privi- 
leges as compared with those of your 
friend. And it may not be amiss for 
you to hear a few words from a 
woman’s intellect, which it has been 
the aim of my life to cultivate. It may 
be as profitable as a German lesson, 
and I will make it so in part, for I will 
speak in German, with which I see you 
are quite familiar.” 

She raised her eyes to her pupil, and 
the face of the latter assured her that 


35 


Their Own Wedding 


she was ready to receive this extraordi- 
nary lesson. 

“ A girl with a deformed body and a 
poor father,” began Fraulein, “has no 
use for sentiment. I was a cripple from 
infancy. My poor heart made an effort 
to be natural, to cultivate its loving pro- 
pensities; but it was rudely repulsed, 
and then it withdrew into the shadow 
of my intellect, where it smouldered 
until it died. 

“But my intellect asserted itself; it 
wrestled with fate, and I had great en- 
couragement. My father was a pastor, 
with only the smallest pittance of a sal- 
ary for his parish work; but he was a 
scholar, and had inherited a library of 
rare value. Tied to a chair, amid vol- 
umes that reached from floor to ceiling, 
with my father for teacher and compan- 
ion, my brain travelled the world over; 
and I collected knowledge which would 
have entitled any man to a degree in 
the Georg-Augustus-University. For 
36 


Their Own Wedding 


you must know that I also had private 
instruction from some of the best pro- 
fessors in Gottingen, men who came to 
my father’s library for information and 
were glad to exchange instruction for 
this privilege. I thought a great deal 
about it, and at length became so em- 
boldened that fifteen years ago I asked 
for a degree from the Georg-Augustus 
to include general literature and six 
different languages. My attainments 
were well known to the Faculty, but 
the degree was refused. With such a 
degree I will say I entertained the 
hope, as my body was growing stronger, 
to establish myself in some foreign col- 
lege for women as professor of German 
and general literature. 

“ Now, a will that has grown inde- 
pendent of a heart is a giant that recog- 
nizes no defeat. I tried every avenue ; 
I knocked at every door; I implored 
every friend of my learned father; I 
bent my knee before the King of 
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Their Own Wedding 


Saxony, who is the supreme authority 
in this University. I might as well 
have asked for the crown on his head. 
‘You are a woman/ was his reply; ‘go 
home and be a mother and a house- 
keeper/ I, a poor cripple, a repulsive 
sight to men ! I thank God to-day, 
that I had no heart to suffer from this 
insult; and yet it was a killing frost. 
Ambition for original work, hope for 
a career in life, — an ideal so sweet 
to every human soul, — were blasted. 
Now I advance others, but I myself 
travel in the old beaten track. I cor- 
rect theses which others have written, 
but I write none. I sit outside the 
walls of this University and give les- 
sons to young men who enter in and 
win high places. I have buried my 
heart, and my intellect is slowly follow- 
ing to the same tomb ! 

“ Ah me,” she sighed, her head sink- 
ing forward, “ I am foolish thus to in- 
trude upon a stranger ; but your face — 
38 


Their Own Wedding 


your eyes — I should think you would 
be besieged with confessions.” 

She sent an appealing look to Mil- 
dred, and weary with emotion, her head 
rested against her chair, and her eyes 
closed. 

If Mildred had been a listener to 
Fraulein’s story more than a sympa- 
thizer with her wrongs, it was not from 
any lack of real compassion ; and if she 
had missed somewhat of the narrative, 
it was not because she had been unwill- 
ing to give her attention to it. The 
truth is, that it was the mood of the 
German woman which overpowered and 
enthralled her. Her art instinct was 
roused, and she had stored up in her 
memory every feature of the Fraulein’s 
expression. Brushing now the tears 
from her eyes which were fastened on 
the listless figure, she crept toward the 
pad of fallen paper and the pencils that 
were in the heap with the Todtenfrau, 
and sinking down into the skirts of her 
39 


Their Own Wedding 


dress she arranged her materials. Out 
of a background of mysterious atmos- 
phere such as genius can create with a 
few strokes of the pencil, there was 
evolved in profile one white, finely- 
rounded temple still beating with the 
tumult of wrongs, waves of tumbled- 
down hair shading a pale cheek like a 
mourning veil, and just the corner- 
curve of a grieved lip ; in the lap of the 
portrait, in the folds of a black dress 
lay those ever restless fingers. Her 
model began to stir, and she thrust the 
memorandum paper deep into her 
pocket. 

Before she retired that night, Mil- 
dred took out her note-book for her 
daily jottings and wrote : “ The mood of 
that woman was thrust upon me. Art 
loves me, and I cannot escape it. I 
will trifle no more with this gift. God 
is my creator, and for him I will be- 
come creative in art. My father must 
sanction the step.” 


40 


Their Own Wedding 

A few days later there appeared the 
following correction to these notes : 
“ ‘ Creative in art ! * I do not mean it 
I will still that voice ; it is vanity, and 
not of the spirit. I am loved of the 
best man in the world. I shall never 
be creative, except as the mother of his 
children.” 


41 


CHAPTER V. 


DRIFTING. 

A low fence enclosed the house of 
Fraulein Jerome, having a gate, which 
opened and shut with a sort of metallic 
groan, as if the hinge suffered pain at 
every movement. Thus the approach 
of a visitor was announced by a sound 
that was far from agreeable to ordinary 
ears; but it sent a thrill of joy to Mil- 
dred’s heart and a tinge of color to 
her cheek. This occurred about every 
afternoon or evening in the week. 

Aunty, in a very becoming gown, 
with lace about her wrists, and with her 
knitting in her hand, was seated at the 
lightest window to act as chaperone 
during the hour that Arnor Thayer’s 
visit was supposed to last. For the 
first fifteen minutes the gallant young 
man chatted with the middle-aged lady 
about America, her cat, and other home 
interests to which her heart longed to 


42 


Their Own Wedding 


return; and then she would generally 
doze in her chair, her knitting falling to 
the floor and dropping stitches which 
required a half hour of Mildred’s time, 
the next day, to pick up. 

Love in a foreign land, amid ruins, 
broken fortifications, moss-grown houses 
and forgotten history is a dream of 
heaven which love does not know amid 
scenes of a more familiar environment. 
There is an atmosphere of mysticism, 
a sense of seclusion and of loneliness, 
which draw the lovers very near to- 
gether. There is a feeling of inter- 
dependence and mutual trust which 
they whisper to each other as they walk 
arm in arm through the evening 
shadows of the strange Old World. It 
is all very natural, and thrills the heart 
with tender and devout faith as they 
renew their vows of undying devotion, 
as they look up to the lone moon which 
is the one familiar object that they have 
shared at home, and speak of that eter- 


43 


Their Own Wedding 


nity which is symbolic of their fidelity. 
The Old World they are living in signi- 
fies nothing to them from a material 
point of view. These people that are 
foreign to them, who speak another 
language, whose methods of living are 
unfamiliar, provide for their physical 
needs; but they have no part in the 
real wherewithal they shall live. Truly 
they are in a world of spirit, and this 
brief moment is their earthly heaven. 

Our lovers were too happy to settle 
down to serious work. Arnor was 
punctual at his lectures, and Mildred 
was pains-taking with her page of irreg- 
ular verbs in “ Otto ” and the reading 
of Schiller with Fraulein. Sometimes 
they greeted each other with “ Guten 
Abend,” and attempted a little conver- 
sation in the tongue they were study- 
ing; but they soon strayed off into 
some love idyl of Heine or Goethe, such 
as, — 


44 


Their Own Wedding 


“ Du bist wie eine Blume, 

So hold und schon und rein ; ” 

or,— 

“ Im wunderschonen Monat Mai 
Als alle Knospen sprangen.” 

When Fraulein Jerome suggested 
their reading Faust with her, Arnor 
maintained that Goethe’s interpretation 
of love as set forth in that drama be- 
longed to the rude ages, when man in 
his relation to woman was a grosser 
being; when he was ignorant of the 
soul’s spiritual sensitiveness, of its close 
conjunction with invisible potencies, 
and of its possibilities of joy apart from 
the body. Mildred thought that Mar- 
garete’s voice to Heinrich should have 
called him to the skies at the very be- 
ginning of their acquaintance, and not 
have been heard for the first time when 
she passed beyond the veil. Neither 
was in the mood for the philosophy of 
Goethe; they floated on in the ether 
of their new-found happiness. Highly 
45 


Their Own Wedding 


endowed as they were in realizing the 
spirit’s supremacy, there were moments 
when they spoke of the possibility of 
passing out of the body without suffer- 
ing the consciousness of death in a 
physical sense, believing this would be 
no miracle, but the simple fulfilment 
of a natural law. 

In Mildred’s lessons with Fraulein 
there was manifested a tender regard 
and great respect for her teacher, but 
no allusion was made to the strange 
conversation of their first meeting, and 
she showed no inclination to study her 
further as a model. The vision she 
caught that day was of the ideal woman 
that God had in mind at Fraulein 
Jerome’s creation, but which failed of 
fulfilment in the flesh. This spiritual 
image, like a shadowy ghost, was hidden 
safe in her secret breast, related in a 
feeble way to a crumpled bit of paper at 
the bottom of her trunk. All through 
the months when she was drifting aim- 
46 


Their Own Wedding 


lessly on the billows of this sweet sen- 
suous love, there were seasons when 
the white hands of this ghost were lifted 
imploringly to her to work out to com- 
pletion her ideal conception. Those 
moments were bewildering, and there 
was a struggle between the woman and 
the artist. She was jealous of any 
voice, even of a breath of air that threat- 
ened to invade the absolute supremacy 
of one single personality that walked in 
the flesh at her side. To abide in 
the radiance of this love she was willing 
to go empty-souled, unfed, unhoused, 
through life, — conditions that were 
simply impossible, since love supplied 
them all. 

A rainy day which kept her indoors, 
and a busy afternoon for Arnor at the 
University, left Mildred with idle 
hands ; and the allurements of art found 
a favorable opportunity to urge their 
claim. Her bedroom opened into her 
sitting-room, as we have been informed 
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Their Own Wedding 


in her opening notes. She went to 
Fraulein and requested that the maid 
be sent to regulate the bedroom only at 
a certain hour in the day, as she was 
going to begin a few sketches, and did 
not wish to be interrupted when at 
work. She had observed that the door 
could be made fast with lock and key 
when she was absent. She had pro- 
vided herself with a limited supply of 
art material before she had left home, 
which was shipped with her other bag- 
gage. 

Within an hour after her interview 
with Fraulein her easel was set up be- 
fore a north window which furnished 
excellent light, in full view of the 
Johannes Tower, in the loft of which 
the watchman with his family dwelt, 
ready at any moment, day or night, to 
sound an alarm from his horn, if the 
town was threatened by fire or an in- 
vading foe. 

Mildred made a study of the old 


Their Own Wedding 


watchman with his horn at his lips, 
amid the lonely shadows of the dark old 
tower, and showed it to Fraulein. It 
proved her innocence in seeking this 
self-imprisonment, and quieted her con- 
science as to the half-truth she had 
spoken. 

The work of the true artist begins 
with a very humble prayer, — a pleading 
with God to unfold himself in the object 
before which the artist sits. The young 
girl had no purpose beyond this prayer. 
But prayer, if sincere, is the greatest 
stimulant to work ; and Mildred Heath 
was sincere. Without knowing it, she 
was praying to God for something she 
very much desired. 

There was a mere trifling with her 
brushes at first, with light and shade, 
sunshine and shadow. These prelimi- 
nary features appeared and disappeared, 
with no visible promise beyond streaks 
and patches of paint, and threatened to 
go on indefinitely ; but her trifling was 
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Their Own Wedding 


arrested one day at beholding on her 
canvas a profile, with one rounded 
white temple struggling to life amid all 
the wild confusion of its surroundings. 
The hours of work were prolonged 
after this, and she was often seated be- 
fore the north window till the shades of 
evening fell. 

As she grew alive to the revelation 
of the invisible on her canvas, Mildred 
became indifferent to other interests. 
The veil which lifted before the image 
of her ideal was converted, as it were, 
into a wall shutting out the world from 
her view. It was as if God refused to 
manifest himself to her, only as she 
gave herself exclusively to him. 

There are no data extant, to my 
knowledge, from which one may gain 
definite information as to the awaken- 
ing moment when Arnor Thayer gave 
himself unreservedly to the study of the 
science of law ; which study led him on, 
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Their Own Wedding 


in subsequent years, to an acquaintance 
with learned men in many lands, to ex- 
tensive research in national libraries of 
foreign cities, and still later to the pub- 
lication of several important works. 
His interest grew stronger at the Uni- 
versity when Professor Eicherhorn be- 
gan his special course; and Mildred’s 
note-book about this time speaks of his 
tracing the statute law of civil govern- 
ment back to the law of the stone and 
plant, and adds : — 

“ My Arnor to all appearance is 
greatly wrought upon by this idea of 
the unfolding and correlation of parts ; 
and if I comprehend him, he thinks it 
possible to discover one system of law 
for every tribe and tree, every nation, 
man, or animal, however rude or civil- 
ized, that has ever attempted a social 
existence ; and he says animals and 
trees do attempt a social existence.” 
Later on she says : “ My Arnor appears 
to be hesitating, like a river which has 
5 1 


Their Own Wedding 


flowed steadily on between narrow 
banks, but at length has come to an 
open country where the way is broader, 
and more than one channel invites it to 
the sea. ‘Not to protect man’s material 
interests alone, but to advance his moral 
and spiritual nature,’ — this is the high 
office of law, as I caught his meaning 
in a brief conversation we had the other 
evening. I was so impressed with his 
earnestness that I am sure I quote him 
correctly. 

“ Ah, my beloved Arnor, whatever 
course you take, you will have an eye 
single to truth, which is the star set 
in the firmament for great souls to 
follow.” 


52 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE INNER TEMPLE. 

The rusty hinge of the gate was less 
distinct in announcing a visitor, or Mil- 
dred’s ear was less alert, for she heard 
nothing till the voice of Katharina in- 
formed her that Herr Thayer was in 
her parlor. Startled, she dropped her 
brush, threw aside her paint-apron, and 
hastened to freshen up her toilet with 
clean linen, not forgetting to place a 
flower in the bosom of her dress taken 
from the gift that was sent by Arnor 
every morning. 

While waiting, sitting on the black 
hair-cloth sofa, the young man was not 
conscious of any wasted time. If weary, 
as he frequently was, the atmosphere of 
the room was like balm to his weari- 
ness, for it was touched with the sweet- 
ness of her breath; it played over his 
face and kissed his brow. 

“Love, love,” he murmured; “the 


53 


Their Own Wedding 


first law of life is the law of love. How 
vast is the domain of this law ! ” 

The revery ran on, his sight being 
dreamily fixed on the fading light of 
the old fortification and the deepening 
shadows of the linden-trees. How can 
human nature attain to its true propor- 
tion ? How can the individual human 
being discover his aim, his vocation, 
and the true use of his faculties? How 
can he attain to his god-like freedom? 
These were some of the questions he 
whispered to the trembling branches; 
and they answered back, “ This can be 
attained only by man’s association with 
man.” 

“ But what will protect the individual 
against the selfishness of men, against 
the crushing pressure of their ambi- 
tion? ” 

These last words were addressed to 
ghostly shadows in long togas stalking 
beneath the nightly pall of the trees. 
They were the spirit forms of great 
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Their Own Wedding 


men who had studied jurisprudence at 
the Georg-Augustus and other great 
seats of learning on earth, and were 
now pursuing further studies in the 
schools of eternity. This was their sol- 
emn response : — 

“ Address your questions, young man, 
to science. The ethical nature of man 
in all nations and under all suns tends 
to impart a scientific character to the 
study of the laws by which his social 
actions are regulated. That which 
steadies man and keeps him firm to his 
purpose, that which protects him against 
the imperfection of each and the selfish 
ambition of all, that which imperiously 
addresses all and yet lovingly whispers 
to each, is law, scientific law. You are 
young. God commands you, humanity 
appeals to you, to help lift the grinding 
heel, the oppressive wrongs committed 
in the name of law, — ignorant, unnatu- 
ral, unscientific law.” 

Mildred’s step reached his side and 
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Their Own Wedding 


her hand was laid on his shoulder 
before he was aware of her approach. 
Then how eagerly he clasped her to his 
throbbing heart, — almost fiercely, as if 
he would see her engulfed in the mighty 
whirlpool where he was struggling. 
The next moment his mind lost its in- 
trospective bent, as his eyes looked into 
the lovely eyes so close to his ; and the 
tears started when he thought how he 
had been absorbed by any other emotion 
than that of joy over their meeting. 

Arnor was not alone in suffering this 
sting of conscience. Mildred too was 
gazing into beautiful eyes, dark, deep, 
and intense with love for her and all 
that is noble in the world. How could 
she have forgotten the hour of his visit ! 
But the door of habit is not easily 
closed. Had they not lived in dream- 
land since their childhood ? Had they 
not thought their deepest thoughts 
without words, loved in silence, and 
communicated their love on sightless 
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Their Own Wedding 


wires ? Had they not built fairy castles 
of invisible fabric ; and had not all this 
been done within the speechless cham- 
bers of the soul ? 

Sitting so close together that the ear 
of each could catch the other’s heart 
pulsations, the vision of both began to 
wander forth from the window, across 
Fraulein Jerome’s yard, beyond the old 
wall, and was lost in the moonlight 
sifted down beneath the trees. Their 
words fell to whispers, and finally were 
lost in profound silence. 

Aunty had relinquished her duty as 
chaperone, and resumed her American 
custom of going to bed with the 
chickens. The lovers were alone in the 
stillness of the evening shadows ; alone, 
each with his and her own thoughts. 
Mildred’s mental vision strayed to a bit 
of high light in her canvas, which gave 
promise of being the creative centre. 
A few more touches of luminous color, 
a slightly stronger atmosphere, and the 
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Their Own Wedding 


white temple and nervous fingers would 
throb with living life. In spite of him- 
self, the mental vision of the young man 
wandered to that headland in the vast 
ocean of human progress which he be- 
lieved to be an unexplored if not undis- 
covered region in the science of natural 
law. She could not speak of her 
vision; it would not fit to the gross 
medium of words. He dared not hint 
at the object of his; it was so far away 
and bespoke such a mighty journey. 

If the lovers grew silent in their 
interviews, pensive and thoughtful, they 
were not sad. 

“ Are you happy, my darling ? ” asked 
Arnor one evening later when he 
visited her. “ Are your days happily 
spent ? ” 

“ I am — oh, so happy ! ” was her 
reply. “ How is it with you, my love ? ” 

“ It is well with me; but remember, 
my own, if you were to utter one cry of 
discontent, or suffer one silent pang of 
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Their Own Wedding 


loneliness, it would bring me out of 
heaven, to lay myself at your feet ; ” 
and he pressed his lips to the soft 
tints of her hair. 

“ But, my Arnor, there is no heaven, 
where you are, in which I am not pres- 
ent. Your paradise is mine; or if it be 
any other state, there I dwell with you. 
I rise on the wings of your love in the 
morning, and drift down the setting sun 
with you at night.” 

But there came the time when their 
meetings were very infrequent; when 
indeed they were short, and terminated 
with a pressure of the hand and scarcely 
a spoken word. It was whispered by 
the Americans who crossed the ocean 
with them, that a coldness had sprung 
up between this devoted pair. Some 
one had seen Mildred on the wall when 
Arnor approached, and each had turned 
away from the other as if by mutual 
consent, and sought different directions. 
Fraulein Jerome was appealed to; but 
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Their Own Wedding 


she shook her head, and scrutinized her 
fingers to no purpose. To her, even, 
the mystery was great, and all her 
leisure moments were absorbed in try- 
ing to solve it ; in which she confessed 
she made no headway. 

To all appearance the lovers were 
radiantly happy. Mildred was always 
singing or joking with Katharina over 
her coffee-cup. Fraulein loved them 
better than any two beings moulded in 
the flesh that she had ever met. They 
affected her like music ; their presence 
together was a symphony. Her life 
had never been so harmonious as since 
this American girl came to dwell 
beneath her roof. She wept as she 
mentioned their seemingly unfortunate 
state. 

Mildred’s interest in “ Otto ” had en- 
tirely subsided; and she would brook 
no analysis of Schiller. “ Please recite 
‘ Die Hoffnung,’ liebes Fraulein ; that 
is all I wish to hear to-day.” Or it 
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Their Own Wedding 


might be a choice bit from some other 
poet that she asked for. 

There was no method in such lessons, 
and they were far from being satisfac- 
tory to a teacher of Fraulein Jerome’s 
pedagogical ideas. It troubled her con- 
science to be receiving compensation 
for instruction which she was not im- 
parting ; but her pupil insisted, and she 
dared not refuse this magnetic person- 
ality and those misty blue eyes that 
lead you to the sky. 

The young artist failed to reach that 
moment in her portrait when, as she 
mentally termed it, “ God said, let there 
be light, and there was light.” That 
indefinable spiritual-intellectual quality 
which she had recognized in the Frau- 
lein’s mood as the beauty of her soul 
eluded her brush. An idea flashed 
upon her; she begged Fraulein, as a 
very great favor, to take up the bit of 
personal history to which she had so 
kindly introduced her at their first 
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Their Own Wedding 


meeting, and to tell her how she had 
risen to her present enviable position 
as instructor of all these foreign pupils ; 
how she had overcome the vast obstacles 
that lay in her way. 

The renewal of the story was a rare 
moment for our artist, who was watch- 
ing for a return of the former state of 
mind. The nervous fingers of the Ger- 
man woman clasped each other as if 
they had been long separated; they 
tingled to the very tips, and the color 
crept up her arms and tinged her neck 
and the white oval of her temple. Her 
recital was now more impassioned if 
possible than at the opening chapter of 
her history; it betrayed a spirit of in- 
tense rivalry and a burning glow of 
triumph. Yes, she had risen in spite 
of her sex; her teaching was coveted 
more than the lectures of the average 
professor in the Georg-Augustus ; her 
income surpassed his; she was better 
known in England and America; she 

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Their Own Wedding 


was in constant reception of letters and 
gifts from her pupils long after their 
return to their native land. 

There was more eloquence, to which 
Mildred paid no heed; for the spirit- 
ual current which ran like fire through 
the woman’s physical being had power- 
fully affected the artist. She changed 
her seat three times for a view of this 
wonderful composition at different 
angles, without the speaker having a 
suspicion that she was posing as a 
model. 


63 


CHAPTER VII. 


BY MOONLIGHT. 

Though the shades of evening were 
upon her when Fraulein ceased speak- 
ing, Mildred repaired to her studio. 
The moon rose early, and it was at its 
full. In that dim, spectral effulgence, — 
an atmosphere of blue and ghostly 
white, tempered by the soft light of the 
stars, with a background of earth’s shad- 
ows, flanked by the deeper and darker 
shadows of the old fortification, with the 
tall, black branches of the lindens keep- 
ing watch, — she worked until midnight. 
Her brain was on fire with God’s 
mighty inspiration; his omnipotent hand 
was over her hand that held the brush ; 
his finger pointed to the colors and 
tints. A flash of light came in at the 
window, and she saw her ideal concept 
brought to perfection on the canvas; 
she heard a voice out of the night say- 
ing, “ God has set his seal to your work ; 

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Their Own Wedding 


it is the birth of a soul, and you are the 
author of its being.” 

From sheer exhaustion Mildred fell 
asleep, with no preparation other than 
to drop her paint-apron, and draw a 
pillow beneath her head at the foot of 
her couch. For hours all consciousness 
of the material world was lost. She 
woke just as a dim shaft of day-break 
crept in at her window. She watched 
it steal along the floor and touch the 
legs of her easel. She knew she was 
awake, for she thought of the light 
reaching higher, until it shone on the 
face of the portrait and wondered what 
the day was going to reveal. 

At that instant a hand clasped her 
hands that lay folded together as she 
rested on her side. A breath swept 
across her cheek and touched her hair, 
and in the breath she caught a whisper, 
“Darling, to-morrow is our wedding 
day.” 

The hand held hers so tightly she 
could not move a muscle. 


6 


Their Own Wedding 


“Arnor is dead,” she gasped; “and 
what I have to do at this moment is to 
take careful note of his spirit’s presence. 
Let me be calm, and sure I am awake, 
and not generating some illusory 
figure.” 

She held her head motionless in its 
first position on the pillow, and made 
observation of every object within the 
radius of her open eyes. There was 
the white sheet serving as a door to the 
press ; there was her apron thrown 
across the chair; her father’s portrait 
was just stealing out of the shadows on 
the wall. No one could question the 
authority of such evidence. Mildred’s 
muscles ached with the tension of her 
emotions, and she hardly drew her 
breath. She could still feel the press- 
ure of the hands. Straightway the 
whisper returned: “Darling, I am not 
dead ; my body is sleeping in my cham- 
ber. Man has two souls or selves ; one 
sleeps, while the other watches or waits. 

66 


Their Own Wedding 


These two selves differ in degree, and 
as the higher self passes on the lower 
self succeeds it; and it is only in the 
more perfect man that the two selves 
are blended in one. I come to tell you 
that to-morrow” — the breath faded 
away before the sentence ended ; 
strength was wanting to complete it. 

Mildred’s hands were loosened, and 
she saw a shadow flit across the bar of 
daylight and vanish. She sprang to 
her feet and sought her note-book, and 
creeping into the faint flush of morning 
made a careful entry of her own state 
of mind and every detail of this mysteri- 
ous visitation. Then she hastened to 
her easel, where a great disappointment 
awaited her. The portrait bore no 
trace of the mental experience of the 
night through which she had passed. 
Her brushes were damp with the oils 
of her tubes, and streaks of paint had 
been dragged across her palette. Some 
of the effects resembled pools of quiver- 

67 


Their Own Wedding 


ing moonlight; others, fragments of 
white hands and glimpses of white faces 
amid the dark leaves of the trees. But 
not a stroke of progress had been made 
on her picture. 

“What does it mean?” she cried. 
“Can a picture be painted by moon- 
light, and vanish at the approach of 
day ? With my eyes shut I can see — 
oh, so clearly! — every feature of the 
vision bathed in the silvery rays; but 
open them, and it is gone ! Was it a 
trance? Was it a dream? Has the 
soul fingers, that it can mix paints and 
apply them ? Has the mind a wall, on 
which a picture can be hung to be 
viewed only by the inward sight ? My 
labor has not been in vain, be it trance 
or illusion. The good thing cannot 
go ; it has been revealed to me — every 
line of light and shadow. Thank God 
for this glorious revelation ! I can now 
finish my work. 

“ And the strange visitation ! was 

68 


Their Own Wedding 


that a trance ? I was wide awake, and 
set one self to watch the other self; 
and another self to watch that, to see 
that it was vigilant and honest. Illu- 
sion ! it was the most real thing of my 
life. Oh, my Arnor ! God holds you so 
close to his nature that you are a 
part of him. Where his omnipresent 
being cleaves the air, you can follow 
and do his bidding in the vast realm of 
empty space. I love you more than I 
love the sweet air of heaven that I in- 
hale with every breath.” 

She threw herself on her knees and 
hid her face in her bed. 

The sun had risen so high that it 
found an opening in the curtains of the 
east window, and the rays fell upon her 
hair and played with the gold tints that 
sparkled amid the brown ; and the gold 
was so abundant that it lighted the 
chamber with its reflected splendor. 

The prayer that she uttered was 
threefold. She thanked God for his 
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Their Own Wedding 


divine manifestation and his promise 
not to forsake her art. In the part that 
was devoted to her father she begged 
that he might not be disappointed in 
the future of her life. “What is des- 
tiny? It is God’s purpose, and I must 
unfold my being in his way. Your 
great soul will utter no word of com- 
plaint, but may your dear heart not be 
grieved.” 

Her closing petition was long and 
profound; her body swayed with emo- 
tion, but the plea which went up from 
her lips was only heard by the ear of 
the Most High. 


70 


CHAPTER VIII. 


BRIDAL ROSES. 

“To-day I must see Arnor,” repeated 
Mildred several times, as if one self 
were warning the other not to falter. 
Her voice trembled, and her face bore 
evidence of great inward conflict. She 
sifted some costly perfumes into her 
bath, and went from room to room 
making a rich and beautiful toilet. 
Standing before a mirror, she arranged 
the folds of a soft fabric in creamy blue; 
tints that are frequently seen in a rift of 
cloud when the sun is struggling with 
the mist, a moment before the filmy veil 
which covers the blue is rent. A ribbon 
of harmonious colors encircled her slim 
waist, and she fastened the soft lace at 
her shoulders with a touch of exquisite 
finish. 

A flower was wanting to complete her 
costume, and Mildred turned the key of 
her door, at which her lover’s morning 
7 1 


Their Own Wedding 


gift was sure to be waiting. What she 
beheld was a large bowl full of roses of 
the choicest varieties, which must have 
been ordered from some neighboring 
city. Every rose was white, glittering 
in pearl and silver, suggesting the pale 
moonlight in which she had worked dur- 
ing the night just passed. She bent 
over the aerial things, sunk in profound 
meditation. 

c “ To-morrow is our wedding day.’ 
Here is proof of the reality of that voice 
which whispered in my ear. Oh, God, 
I feel as if my soul were leaving my 
body ; give me strength ! ” 

Instead of one rose, Mildred drew out 
several, bestowed a kiss upon the bunch, 
and thrust them into her bosom. The 
long stems pierced the tender flesh ; but 
she pressed them harder, as if she would 
drive them to her heart. 

Katharina knocked at the door, bear- 
ing the tray with breakfast. Without 
opening wider than sufficient to pass 
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Their Own Wedding 


her hand, the occupant of the room 
reached out a letter which she re- 
quested the servant to take to Mr. 
Thayer. 

“ Take my breakfast away, Katharina. 
No matter when you bring it — not until 
I ring. Be sure and deliver the letter 
at once.” 

Mildred’s face was white; her limbs 
refused to support their burden; she 
sank down on the old black hair-cloth 
sofa. It was where Arnor and she had 
sat together in sweet communion. She 
laid her cheek against it, and kissed the 
coarse stuff. The thorns of the roses 
were cruel ; she wished they would let 
out her life’s blood; she wished she 
might escape from the body. A myste- 
rious sense of the unknown, a strange 
and lonely future, some event too 
mighty for her youthful years to 
grapple, loomed up before her. The 
zephyrs of the warm May morning stole 
through an open window, played with 
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Their Own Wedding 


her hair and made bold to listen to 
some broken, half-whispered sentences. 

“ Is my soul wedded to his soul ; is 
that all ; are we to walk apart, in this 
strange soul communion, unlike the 
world ? Why am I so happy, even 
though I do not see his living face for 
days ? How is it that I would be hap- 
pier at this hour sitting before my easel, 
his love hovering like the atmosphere 
about me, inspiring, guiding, breathing 
joy and life into my work, than to be 
here waiting for his bodily presence? 
But if it is thus with me, and otherwise 
with him — oh, God! I must know 
how it is with him ; the hour has come 
when I must fathom his soul. For him 
I can sacrifice my art, my love ” — she 
bit her lips, and pressed the thorns 
harder — “ to live with him in the flesh 
— to be his wife. To be my Arnor’s 
wife! is this a sacrifice of love? My 
Heavenly Father, to what has it come ? 
Have I not always expected to be his 
wife — to honor, serve, and obey ” — 

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Their Own Wedding 


The door opened and Katharina an- 
nounced the young man with whose in- 
visible soul her soul was thus wrestling. 

Arnor Thayer approached the sofa 
hesitatingly. The girl whose life had 
been one joyous summer wore a look of 
troubled experience, and the appeal in 
her eyes was pathetic. The soft laces 
that fell from her open sleeve, the 
creamy blue that reflected the sky, the 
one solitary ring which glistened on her 
finger, the petals which were dropping 
like tears from the crushed roses to her 
lap, — these were a part of her, and 
altogether made a ravishing harmony. 
He bent low, almost to her feet. 

“ My bride, my lovely bride,” he mur- 
mured in a whisper muffled with emo- 
tion, and pressed her hands to his lips. 
Then rising by virtue of his own strong 
will, he stood erect before her, his soul 
looking down into her soul, till it found 
its way to the heart which the roses 
were piercing. 


75 


Their Own Wedding 


44 My bride in the spirit, — in the spirit 
only, for time and eternity, — this is our 
wedding day ! for this life and the life 
hereafter ! forever ! forever ! ” 

His words were charged with holy 
authority, as if a priest in sacerdotal 
robes, with consecrated censer, was cele- 
brating a divine church ceremony. 

In an instant, Mildred was on her feet 
to regard his face more closely. He 
was scrupulously clad, and his coun- 
tenance beamed with that radiance 
which heaven only lends to man when 
a victory has been won which has 
waked the harps of the angels. 

44 Arnor,” she cried, 44 my own beloved, 
my husband in the spirit, I am your 
wife ! Raise your hand — here in mine. 
Let us reach our hands up to God; 
and my mother’s departed spirit that is 
waiting near us shall be our witness.” 

If his voice had been that of the 
high-priest, hers was that of the high- 
priestess. 


76 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE BIRD’S JUBILEE. 

The pallor of Mildred’s cheek fled, 
and the velvety skin was touched as if 
with the reflected blush of a rose in her 
bosom. She moved from her place at 
his side, and put her hands on his breast, 
looking into his face. 

“ My dear Arnor, this is all so 
strange ; but it was to be.” She spoke 
with deep thoughtfulness. “You know 
how few times we have ever alluded to 
our marriage; as if an unseen finger 
were laid on our lips to hold back the 
word, notwithstanding the mutual pledge 
we had solemnly made. But it was not 
for the want of love — could ever souls 
love more than ours? Tell me that, 
my own dear one.” 

“ Never, never, my darling ! If God 
can make love greater than ours, he 
has not revealed it in this world,” he 
exclaimed ardently, folding her to his 
heart. 


77 


Their Own Wedding 


“ But, even now,” she continued, her 
eyes again seeking his, “ even now, since 
we have set the seal to this act, are we 
sure we are wholly justified? Let us 
be frank — I will speak plainly. Can 
you continue to serve a woman’s soul so 
withdrawn from you? Will our souls 
find each other in eternity, if we never 
meet again in these material bodies ? ” 

Her voice fled in a frightened whis- 
per, and the atmosphere seemed to 
shine about her as if a star had dropped 
from heaven and scattered its radiance 
of gold. 

The young man’s sight strayed be- 
yond the window, miles beyond any 
point that he saw. His eyes were wide 
with that strangeness which sees things 
that are not visible. 

The old fortification was a flood of 
sunshine, and the buds of the linden- 
trees felt the life of the awakening 
spring. A bird atilt on a lilac-bush 
near the window poured forth a sweet 
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Their Own Wedding 


melody. A passing peasant girl re- 
called the snatch of a classic love song 
(German children are full of songs) and 
setting her words to the bird’s accom- 
paniment they sang together, — 

“ Liebe, ewigkeit ! Liebe, ewigkeit ! ” 

The duet jubilee was caught by the 
wind and borne to the ears of the silent 
couple. It evoked a smile in their 
faces, recalled to Arnor what his be- 
loved had been saying, and enabled him 
to reply, — 

“ Oh that I possessed the gift of the 
bird, I would sing to you, and you 
should know the emotions of my soul ! 
But what language can express these 
emotions? Is it music or art — or 
silence? I think it is only silence. 
My vocabulary is scant; and is it a 
wonder? We possess only what we 
use. 

“ To enable me to communicate my 
love to you the elemental forces of 
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Their Own Wedding 


Nature have given me speech, — the un- 
seen and unheard ; those speechless 
voices that fill the air have been my 
messengers. I am speaking now of 
those deep, silent, fruitful years of our 
lives when our spiritual natures grew to 
their greatest unfolding. 

“We owe everything to your dear 
father, and let us remember him to-day. 
His restrictions kept us strangers in 
the world’s limited sense of human 
fellowship. In our helplessness we 
cried out to God, and he heard our 
prayer. In the multitude of his laws, 
yet unrevealed to man, he taught us the 
mystery of one law, which opened the 
way for our glad spirits to take their 
flight through space independent of 
material embodiment. He taught us 
the chemistry of clouds, the mystery of 
darkness and light, and the cipher in 
sounds and whispers. How can you 
entertain a doubt of the soul’s happi- 
ness when it thus transcends the body ; 

So 


Their Own Wedding 


when it may close its eyes at night, fold 
itself as in a cloud, shut the door of its 
translucent chamber and depart to be 
with its beloved ? Can the body suffer 
when the spirit is free and with its 
own ? 

“ This world, for you and me, is only 
a tenting-ground where we abide for a 
night. Through aeons we have voyaged 
thus together; every change of material 
form has brought us into the knowledge 
of a higher spiritual life, leaving the old 
self to inhabit the earth, till it too in 
its turn follows on and enters the higher 
state. 

“ For souls thus joined together 
earthly vows are a sacrilege ; they are a 
step backward, at which Nature revolts, 
and which she punishes by a life of un- 
rest, of work unfulfilled, and ideals un- 
realized. We have had a foretaste of 
this punishment which surely awaited 
us, in the unrest which we have suffered. 
There have come to us weariness and 
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Their Own Wedding 


longing for the old conditions depend- 
ent upon our bodies ; but at that 
happy period our souls were far more 
visible than our bodies, removed as they 
were from the shadow of the body, shin- 
ing in their own free and open light. 
The offspring born of such a spirit 
union may be a brave act, an unselfish 
deed, a noble life. God knows the world 
is in need of such offspring, and he will 
care for the fulfilment of all his laws, and 
it is not for us to take thought therefor. 

“ Will my soul find yours in eternity, 
you ask? As surely as the star that 
rises at night must steer for that point 
in the heavens toward which the finger 
of God points, so surely, my love, shall 
I know you, and come to claim you. 
You, my star, will shine with a glory 
that surpasseth all other stars; for of 
such is love born, and wed in the 
spirit.” 

“ It is well,” said Mildred. She spoke 
low and tenderly, and smiled. “ Let us 

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Their Own Wedding 


stand a few moments in the lingering 
fragrance of the roses, and hearken for 
the benediction of my mother, and of 
the recording angel.” 

The sun was now at its mid-day point 
in the tops of the lindens ; the dark old 
tower had stepped wholly out of its 
gloom, and was bathed in the glory of 
the spring. 

“ Liebe, ewigkeit ! Liebe, ewigkeit ! ” 

trilled, once more, the robin’s accom- 
paniment ; he had been carrying sticks 
and straws for his wife to make their 
nest, and stopped again before the win- 
dow. 


83 


CHAPTER X. 

THE FATE OF FRAULEIN’s PORTRAIT. 

For half an hour this spiritually 
made bride and bridegroom walked 
together under the lindens. Slowly the 
figure in the creamy-blue gown passed 
in and out beneath the shadow of the 
branches; her step was light, and the 
voices of both were happy and free. 

At Mildred’s request, Arnor drew off 
the betrothal ring and placed it on the 
third finger of her right hand. 

“ Now I can look upon it when I 
work,” she said ; “ and it will keep me 
ever in close communion with the event 
of this holy day.” 

The sun shone upon them with its 
soft rays, and the birds responded to 
their conversation with sweet spring 
notes. They stopped, lingered a few 
moments over some final words con- 
cerning their plans for the future, 
smiled a parting which no language 
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Their Own Wedding 


could utter, and went their separate 
ways, — he to his study, and she to her 
studio. 

Mildred’s bridal dress was quickly 
removed. “ I shall want it no more,” 
she soliloquized, as she folded the lace 
within the skirt for protection, and 
laid it in a perfumed trunk. She lifted 
her arms ; they were light as wings, 
and the air seemed to bear her up. “ I 
will fly to the sky,” she whispered with 
joy ; “ and I will furnish a home there 
in jasper and gold, where my love will 
come at night, and his soul will meet 
my soul, and we will call it ‘ The Soul’s 
Rest.’ ” 

The imagination of Mildred sought 
to weave other beautiful furnishings of 
rainbow hues and tints into this airy 
castle, but the visionary abode was in- 
vaded by an impious visitor and it 
quickly melted away. 

Katharina entered bringing the after- 
noon lunch of tea and toast. Not re- 

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Their Own Wedding 


ceiving any encouragement to linger 
she immediately withdrew. Mildred 
dropped into an easy chair by the side 
of the little table where the tray had 
been deposited, and listlessly stirred the 
contents of her cup and broke the crisp 
pieces of bread. She closed her eyes 
and her cheek inclined upon her hand. 
A stray sunbeam crept into the waves 
of her hair and frolicked with the silken 
meshes. The lace in her bosom rose 
and fell with her gentle breathing; a 
smile on her lips and a half-audible 
whisper told that she was already with 
the guest of her “ airy castle.” When 
she woke the shadows of the lindens 
were stealing across the street in the 
direction of the garden gate and its 
creaking hinge. They looked like the 
mighty forms of giants creeping on thus 
stealthily and threatening to invade the 
peaceful domain of Fraulein Jerome. 
She fancied she heard the gate open, 
and a return of the footstep that had 
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Their Own Wedding 


been so musical to her ears during the 
early months of her stay in the old 
town. She gazed on, till the giants 
entered her room and their shadows 
cast a pall over her chair and table ; till 
they draped her windows and finally 
closed the shutters of night. 

Some days after the laying away of 
the bridal gown, Mildred’s diary was 
resorted to, and it furnishes information 
that is valuable, as it continues the his- 
tory of her art, and reveals the peculiar 
manner of its progress. It must have 
been several days later that she resumed 
her diary, for Fraulein told the “other 
Americans ” that the young girl was not 
seen by any member of the family dur- 
ing that time, and if she left the house 
it was in the deep watches of the night, 
when no eye saw her nor ear heard her 
step. As was customary, Katharina 
took her meals to her room ; sometimes 
the food was tasted, but often it was not 
touched, though Fraulein sent up the 
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Their Own Wedding 

choicest viands prepared by her own 
hands. 

The “ other Americans ” were again 
disturbed in their minds and lively with 
their tongues over this new freak of 
their young country-woman ; but now 
Aunty came forward with an explana- 
tion. It was the first time that the 
quiet old lady had spoken so much at 
length since she arrived in this German 
city. 

Her niece, she explained, had always 
had “ spells ” (as she expressed it) of 
disappearing from the family, and 
her father indulged her in the habit. 
She was supposed to sleep during 
these “ spells,” which usually lasted two 
or three days, and sometimes longer. 
Her father maintained that her or- 
ganism required these seasons of rest, 
and he would allow no intrusion upon 
her solitude. When she came forth 
from her chamber, her face was like 
a star that had newly risen in the 
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Their Own Wedding 


heavens, — so bright, fresh, and happy 
it looked. 

Oblivious to this outside curiosity 
and interest, and unconscious of any 
world except the boundaries set to her 
own experience and the emotions of 
her own heart, Mildred writes in her 
diary : — 

“ Dear Mother [she frequently ad- 
dressed her notes to her mother’s spirit], 
I have worked on the portrait at inter- 
vals now for several days, and slept be- 
tween the periods of work. I could not 
see clearly the likeness I was seeking to 
copy, except when my eyes were closed ; 
and then I frequently fell into slumber, 
and became discouraged and despondent 
in consequence, for I was making no 
material progress with my ideal. 

“ I will call it a trance that befell me. 
I may as well call it thus, for I have 
no desire to quarrel with conventional 
opinion, and I have no vocabulary with 
which to dispute science and philos- 
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Their Own Wedding 


ophy. They have words, and I have 
proof; more, I have perfect satisfaction 
and peace in the society of the whisper- 
ing shadows. 

“ It was one evening, not many 
minutes after Katharina had set down 
the tray in my sitting-room and lighted 
the lamp (I saw the light beneath the 
door). I was as wide awake as ever I 
was in my life, and took note (as I did 
the other night) of things in my room, 
— my father’s portrait, my easel, and 
apron on the chair. Suddenly I was 
startled by a noise, as if some one was 
pouring water from my pitcher into my 
bowl. I fully expected to see Katharina, 
but in an instant I recalled that my bed- 
room door was locked; my memory 
was clear on that point. 

“ Out of the invisible ether there was 
evolved a figure right before my canvas. 
‘ Arnor,’ I called, ‘ is it you ? ’ But it 
was not he. It was a man in middle 
life, with a shock of hair touched with 


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Their Own Wedding 


grey, and wearing a blouse. In his left 
hand he held a palette and several 
paint-brushes, and pointed to my can- 
vas. ‘ Destroy this study,’ were his 
words. I had never heard the voice be- 
fore. * It will furnish you no further in- 
spiration; but it will feed your vanity 
and encourage idleness. Let no one 
see it; beginners should hear no praise; 
artists should hear no praise till they 
have become so meek, sitting at the feet 
of Nature, that they turn away in pity 
at the world’s misapprehension of the 
magnitude of art. Paint no more por- 
traits; turn to the landscape; live in 
the fields ; go to the great teachers for 
instruction.’ 

“ I strained my ears for another 
sound. The invisible air closed up the 
place where the figure stood, and from 
which the voice had emanated. ‘ Who 
are you ? ’ I cried. ‘ Destroy this por- 
trait! It is — it is’ — my words 
plunged boldly forward — ‘ it is a soul ! ’ 
9 1 


Their Own Wedding 


“ I held my breath and hearkened, 
until I had to struggle to gasp again. 
The silence was unbroken.” 

From all that can be gathered from 
incoherent passages and impassioned, 
half-uttered sentences that follow in the 
diary, there ensued a fierce struggle be- 
tween the admonitions of the strange 
visitor and the desire of her own heart 
to carry forward the portrait to com- 
pletion. She plunged into work, and 
waged war with the opposing forces 
which she realized were about her, in 
her persistence to bring forth the moon- 
light revelation. But every touch of the 
brush hid the secret instead of reveal- 
ing it. 

“ Alas ! alas ! ” she writes, “ the face 
in my picture is surely dying. The 
vision grows dim ; I struggle to see it, 
but cannot. I can no longer see it with 
my eyes open or closed. If God ever 
set his seal to my art, he has with- 
drawn it.” 


92 


Their Own Wedding 


Not many days after this painful 
soliloquy, Mildred went out for a walk, 
before the family had risen or a being 
was astir, and did not return for many 
hours. When she did return, her 
hands were laden with flowers that bore 
the fragrance of the woods; her face 
was aglow with health, and wore a look 
of calm resignation. She went to her 
easel and removed the little brass heads 
which held the canvas at the four cor- 
ners, and laid it on the floor. With 
some white paint she covered every 
square inch, — the white oval of the 
temple, and the Fraulein’s nervous 
fingers. Then she scattered the flowers 
over the whole. 

“ This is as it should be,” she mur- 
mured ; “ and this is the way all vanity 
and foolish ambition should be en- 
shrouded. I have great respect for my 
model, and the violets are devoted to 
her memory. No one has seen the 
study but the spirits that have looked 
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Their Own Wedding 

over my shoulder ; and I thank God I 
have been spared by their heaven-sent 
protection ! Oh, Arnor, you would 
have been faithful to the voice of the 
spirit. I have been vainly ambitious, 
self-willed, and justly punished.” 


94 


CHAPTER XI. 


AUFWIEDERSEHEN. 

Mildred’s trunks were strapped, and 
Aunty’s knitting, together with all 
her other belongings, were packed in 
other trunks; and her bonnet-strings 
were tied securely under her fat chin. 

In one corner of Mildred’s hand-bag 
was a letter from her father, which had 
taken several American stamps to bring 
across the Atlantic. He had learned 
of the strange marriage in a voluminous 
package of her notes which she had sent 
to him, and from a long confession from 
Arnor. By their ultra spiritual develop- 
ment, and by their union in a previous 
state of existence, which in their dreams 
they could recall (which faith he shared 
with them), combined with the work in 
life that fate seemed to have thrust 
upon them and Providence had design- 
edly put in far-separated paths, he was 
overpowered, and acknowledged his ap- 
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Their Own Wedding 


predation of their humility and devo- 
tion to truth. He sent them his love 
and blessing. 

Mr. Heath, be it stated here, was a 
well-known philanthropist, whose life 
had been one of devoted service for 
humanity ; and his memory is treasured 
to-day in the hearts of the American 
people. He rejoiced when he heard 
that Arnor, whom he loved next to his 
own daughter, was going to abandon 
the commercial side of his profession, 
to take up the ethical and humanitarian ; 
for he saw his own task shifted to the 
strong, youthful shoulders of this son. 
He had secretly anticipated this change, 
and silently prayed that it might come 
to pass ; for, unknown to Arnor, he had 
instituted legal research and persistently 
carried it forward, until light had fallen 
upon the young man’s ancestral line; 
and the discovery had been made that 
the stock he sprang from was one of 
reformers of noble zeal. The lawyers 

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Their Own Wedding 


whom Mr. Heath employed had also 
brought to light a modest inheritance 
for Arnor, which had trickled down 
through generations and was waiting 
for the legal claimant. This discovery 
was made several years ago, and the in- 
heritance had furnished ample means 
for the young man to carry forward his 
studies until now, when his horizon was 
widening out into this vast field of ac- 
tion. Mr. Heath foresaw that Arnor’s 
present income w'ould not be sufficient 
for his future career, and he wrote his 
daughter suggesting that she share with 
Arnor her own income, which was 
largely in excess of her needs. By a 
strange concurrence her letter crossed 
his on the ocean, begging him to con- 
sent to this very thing, and to make it 
a legal and permanent act. “ It belongs 
to him more than to me,” she wrote; 
“ for he will make it of more service to 
the world, is more worthy of it, and I love 
him better than I love my own life.” 

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Their Own Wedding 


Fraulein Jerome accompanied her 
boarders to the Weber Strasse station, 
her eyes bent the while on her hands, 
though it is doubtful if she could see 
them for the tears that clouded her 
sight. Katharina was allowed to delay 
her morning chores, and she followed 
the carriage and baggage-wagon. Mil- 
dred looked back, and seeing Katharina 
with her eyes on the ground, and re- 
marking that her step was measured 
and solemn, she smiled ; for the attitude 
reminded her of her first interview with 
the girl, the morning after her arrival, 
and of the pose of the Todtenfrau. 

“ Poor Katharina,” she said, and there 
was a mingling of genuine tenderness 
with her smile; “she has no reason to 
sorrow at my departure; no one has. 
We never leave anything or anybody 
behind us that has become a part of 
us; no soul can forsake another soul 
that by the law of life belongs to it. If 
you, my dear Fraulein, and your family 
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welcome the return of my spirit to you, 
as you would welcome my body, you 
will soon be aware of my presence ; for 
I love you well and will come to you as 
often as I can.” 

Arnor Thayer stood on the platform 
at the station, the incarnation of all that 
is beautiful and noble in manhood. 
The graceful figure of Mildred alighted 
in his arms, and she caught the words, 
“ my wife ! ” The fragrant breath that 
swept across his ear bore the response, 
“ my husband ! ” 

They turned a few steps aside, and 
conversed in low tones. Mildred knew 
that her beloved was to leave immedi- 
ately for Russia, and that a few months 
later he was to travel to the Orient to 
study the government and laws in the 
East, especially the moral effect and 
race benefit of colonization in those 
countries. Her father had engaged 
Arnor to make investigation for him in 
the last-named questions, for material 
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Their Own Wedding 


which he wished to use in his own pri- 
vate studies. 

The sun was shining on the old forti- 
cation by whose wall about the town 
they had so many times walked together. 
They fell to musing as they watched the 
autumn leaves piling themselves up in 
yellow patches on the ground, or flying 
away to nooks and corners in the fences 
to hide from the winter storms. This 
parting was the severest test their souls 
had ever encountered; but they main- 
tained their silence, and dwelt on the 
thought of God’s wonderful laws, which 
they had tested and knew were unfail- 
ing, until their spirits rose above the 
bondage of the flesh and its lingering 
enthralment, into the bliss and freedom 
of spirit union. 

“ Aufwiedersehen,” was the parting 
word. “ It is only for a day ; sleep 
cometh.” 

The train sped its way across the 
country. Aunty sat quietly in her seat, 


IOO 


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glad to get a start in the direction of 
America, and counted the cities and 
towns, and remarked upon the ruins 
and lofty cathedrals which the flying 
engine left behind them. Mildred com- 
muned with her thoughts, and saw only 
the world invisible. Not a tower, ruin, 
or cathedral did she note; not the 
slightest heed did she pay to the noise of 
the rumbling wheels, or the motion of 
the rolling car. Speechless and silent 
her body was carried on, and her soul 
followed and overtook it, at its destina- 
tion in a far-distant city. 


IOI 


CHAPTER XII. 


THE WILLOW THAT WEEPS. 

It was five years before Mildred 
Heath’s name was mentioned in the 
circles of art ; and then it was by the 
merest accident that the whole of Paris 
knew it. She had studied with the 
best masters, and received every en- 
couragement that money and a devoted 
father, who had come abroad to live 
with her, could provide; and she had 
produced some commendable work in 
landscape painting. But when a can- 
vas reached a certain stage she aban- 
doned it. She would not allow a piece 
to be put on exhibition, not even to be 
hung in her own private apartments 
or the apartments of her father. She 
begged her teachers to speak no word 
of praise; all she sought was their 
criticism. 

“ It is not well for beginners to be 
praised,” was her excuse to her father 


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when he sought to understand the 
rigorous treatment of her art. “ Be- 
ginners should hear no praise ; it 
makes them vain and idle. Don’t call 
my pictures art ; they are only studies.” 

Mildred became attached to a cer- 
tain willow-tree which hung lonely over 
a brook, in a sequestered spot, and sat 
for hours alone by it. A sad accident 
had befallen one of its branches ; a 
spiteful flash of lightning had torn 
through its members, and the once 
symmetrical tree hung its head and 
mourned for its youthful grace which 
had forever departed. She began to 
paint it, and grew as thin as a shadow 
seeking to discover in the atmospheric 
life of this tree, in the weeping beauty of 
its branches, that note which is in har- 
mony with the sentiment of the human 
heart. 

Mildred had taken a canvas (the last, 
perhaps, of a dozen efforts) to the studio 
of the great Rennier, for his criticism. 

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While they were standing before the 
easel on which the picture of the droop- 
ing branches had been placed, Corot 
entered ; and, unobserved by either, he 
came up behind them in close proximity 
to her shoulder, and looked over it. 

“ Marvellous ! ” exclaimed Corot ; “ it 
weeps ! ” 

Mildred’s mind flew in a thousand 
different directions at the sound of this 
voice, seeking for the place and time 
where and when she had first heard it ; 
but the instant she turned, and her eye 
lighted on that shock of white hair, 
though five years whiter than when she 
saw it in her trance, she recognized the 
voice that had bid her destroy Fraulein’s 
portrait. Such experiences were now of 
too frequent occurrence in her life, to 
disturb her visibly, and she maintained 
apparent composure, except that a deep 
tinge mantled her cheek. 

“ Are you the artist ? ” Corot asked, 
looking into her face. “ Of course you 

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are ; for my friend Rennier, great as he 
is, can hardly see that atmosphere. He 
could paint it of course, if once seen. 
It takes strange eyes to see through at- 
mosphere to what is beyond.” He 
paused a moment, gazing at the canvas 
with tenderness, and added, “ Trees are 
very human things. They are full of 
moods, — joy and gladness. Sometimes 
as in this instance, the mood is pity and 
pathos. Yes, yes; he that hath eyes to 
see will see. Your tree will find few 
rivals,” he said, again looking her full in 
the face. “ I advise you to let that can- 
vas go to the next Salon.” 

“Is that your candid opinion, Mon- 
sieur Corot?” she tremblingly asked. 
She knew that a word of commendation 
from Corot counted as a mint of gold 
in the estimation of every artist in 
Paris. 

“ It is, my young friend. That willow 
weeps; it is delicious to gaze upon. 
But it has cost you the flesh on your 


Their Own Wedding 


bones — I was going to say your soul. 
But, no! you have gained a soul. I 
have always said a woman would be- 
come creative in art when she loved 
divinely. Your tree betrays that 
love.” 

How Mildred did long to seize his 
hand, bow down and kiss the hem of 
his blouse, and make him her confessor ! 
And this would have been her confes- 
sion: “You were wise to direct me to 
leave the human face and substitute for 
it something in nature. I should have 
died in the attempt to paint another 
portrait. I am not old enough or strong 
enough physically; but in another in- 
carnation, great master, I shall return 
to the mystery of the human face.” 

Soon after this occurrence, some con- 
versation took place between Mildred 
and her father as to the advisability of 
seeking Corot’s acquaintance, inviting 
him to dinner, and thus giving her an 
opportunity to relate the wonderful visi- 
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tation of his sub-conscious self. But 
Mr. Heath was finally of the opinion 
that it would prove to be an incident of 
minor import to the great artist, who 
was in the habit of living, most of the 
time, in an ideal world. “ His spirit,” 
he said, “ will quicken not only the liv- 
ing, but the unborn, for generations to 
come; and he will pass in and out of 
studios whispering words of encourage- 
ment to the artist, wherever divine 
beauty seeks to reveal itself.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


SOLITUDE, SWEET SOLITUDE. 

Within twenty-four hours, Mildred 
Heath’s name was circulating through 
the art circles of Paris. The opening 
of the Salon and “ the Willow that 
Weeps ” was the topic of absorbing in- 
terest. Rennier had said something 
about the points of gold in the artist’s 
hair, and of her graceful form that was 
the counterpart of the willow ; and this 
increased the celebrity of the picture. 

Mildred herself never saw her picture 
in the Salon, and no one ever saw her 
within its portals. She left the city 
immediately, accompanied by her Aunt. 
They travelled in the South of France, 
and finally settled down in an old town 
whose cathedral bell rings the sweetest 
Ave Marias in all that country. She 
hired some rooms in an ancient chateau, 
the stone pavement of whose court bore 
the imprint of generations of feet. The 
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porter, with a huge key at his belt, 
let them in through a high stone gate. 
With a maid for Aunty, and a servant 
to prepare their meals and make their 
beds (whom Mildred paid extra not to 
admit any strangers), she was free to 
sleep and dream for three days or more. 
Her note-book was now her frequent 
companion, and its pages again inform 
us where her thoughts went. 

“ Solitude, sweet Solitude ! To be 
alone with the spirit, with my spirit- 
husband ; to commune with him ; to tell 
him of my triumph ; to tell him of this 
old town, and of these bells that chime ! 
Oh, the waves of love that return from 
him over mountains and far-distant 
seas! I will hasten to my pillow at 
night, that I may be with his spirit. I 
will sleep long hours, to hold his spirit 
near me.” 

Then she writes of being alone in the 
pathless woods, — alone with him ; of 
standing on the mountain overlooking a 


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vast stretch of country ; of walking in 
the starry night alone with his spirit. 

“ I can hear his step on the wind ; 
I can feel his breath on my cheek, — no 
intrusion of the world, but pure bliss of 
the soul. Thus I shall walk with my 
Arnor down to my death, and through 
the eternities beyond.” 

This strangely wedded pair never 
met in the body after the parting in the 
old German town, until the youth of 
the body had long passed, and the gold 
in her hair and the brown in his had 
been touched with the frost of many 
winters. 

“The Willow that Weeps” brought 
offers of a large sum of money at its 
first exhibition; but Mildred’s father 
did not wish to sell it. Later it was 
sent home as a gift to a certain pub- 
lic gallery, where it now hangs, its at- 
mosphere growing richer, tenderer, and 
more poetic in the advancing years. 

Mildred Heath painted many more 


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pictures, some of other trees found in 
unfrequented spots. The high-water 
mark of her genius did not ebb so long 
as she held the brush. Her pictures 
were given away to adorn homes, hospi- 
tals, and school-rooms. No one of her 
pictures was ever sold, and each was 
given away with the condition that no 
money should ever be obtained from its 
sale. 

“ From God came the gift,” she said; 
“and marvellous were his ways to be- 
stow it on me. In his service I will 
use it.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 

“THE SOUL’S REST.” 

Arnor Thayer followed the finger 
of God through great thoughts and 
great works. He dropped the profes- 
sion of law, which had he pursued in 
conformity with the usual ways of that 
profession, having an eye single to self- 
aggrandizement, would have brought 
him fame and wealth. He professed 
rather laboriously to discover a way 
to free his fellow-men from their bond- 
age to human greed and ambition. 
Whether he wrote for publication (his 
books on “Natural Law” are consid- 
ered invaluable among men of erudi- 
tion) or whether he addressed audiences, 
his words emanated from the great 
source of spiritual life, — the same source 
whence came the messages which were 
borne on the wings of air to his spirit- 
ually-wedded wife. His was an undi- 
vided soul, that served only one master. 


Their Own Wedding 


A little apart from a city which is 
the home of American culture, in what 
may be called the outlying districts of 
that city, are two houses separated only 
by a trellised walk. They are stately 
mansions; one is colonial in architect- 
ure, and the other of a style equally re- 
fined. As if to retreat still further from 
the curiosity of the world, the porches 
are curtained with honeysuckle vines, 
roses, and other plants that climb, blos- 
som, or yield fragrance. Both houses 
are filled with valuable works of art, 
choice books, manuscripts, and rare 
articles which have been gathered from 
many corner of the earth. On certain 
days in every month the public are in- 
vited to visit special rooms in these 
houses, being received by the porter, 
who acts as their guide. 

Servants attend Arnor Thayer in one 
house and Mildred Heath in the other. 
The same servants go and come, and 
perform the duties of both establish- 


Their Own Wedding 


ments. They are as soft of footfall, as 
gracious and dignified of manner, as 
those they serve, being restrained and 
educated for the most part by the spirit- 
ual atmosphere around them. 

The couple inhabiting these homes 
are known as “ the spiritually married 
couple.” The father of the woman 
called them his “ heavenly children,” 
and when he passed from the earth left 
his fortune to be shared equally by 
them. 

If the day is warm, the gentle lady, 
clad in soft white fabrics, sits in her 
easy chair under a favorite honeysuckle 
which climbs a pillar of the veranda. 
The pillar is of rare architectural beauty, 
but it is the vine she prizes. It was trans- 
planted from the doorstep of her city 
home, and is carefully tended by her 
own hands. The man of ripened 
years but of noble presence, his strong 
features softened by the touches of time, 
may be seen moving across the grounds, 


Their Own Wedding 


accompanied by his servant, to where 
the white figure sits, half hidden behind 
the fragrant blossoms. He accosts her 
as if she were the queen of heaven ; and 
the smile she beams upon him dispels, 
to his vision at least, every trace of age 
in her face; her hair is again golden 
brown, and her eyes the winning light 
which has been caught from the drift- 
ing sky. She extends a hand to him, 
and there is always another chair be- 
neath the honeysuckle, to which she 
conducts him. 

The words exchanged by this couple 
are few, and they sit for hours together 
in the silence, breathing the rarest at- 
mosphere and watching the doors open 
wider which lead beyond the bounds of 
time and place. 



OCT 11 1800 







